The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Birthday Girl

by Pan

Trish stormed through the party, looking for her boyfriend. He was standing, smiling, talking to one of her ex-boyfriends: Joe, the man who she had found in bed with a waitress. No, not just a waitress: their regular waitress at their favorite cafe.

“Excuse me,” she said with an attempt at a smile, and whisked Tim away.

“Hey babe,” he said casually, ignoring the scowl on her face. “Enjoying the party?”

“No,” she hissed, “I am not enjoying the party.” She pulled Tim by the arm and maneuvered him past Roy, her ex-boyfriend who she’d kicked out after finding his collection of internet porn. As if the BDSM stuff hadn’t been enough, Roy had owned enough midget porn to fill three external hard drives. Trish hadn’t even realized there were that many midgets on the planet.

“That sucks,” Tim said, looking over his shoulder. “Still, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it more when the entertainment arrives.”

Trish opened her mouth in fury, but after a brief pause as Tim opened another can of beer, pursed her thin lips together instead. Clearly this relationship wasn’t going to work…but the conversation would have to wait until after the party.

It was almost a pity. When Trish had first run into Tim at her local grocery store, she’d admired the confident way he approached her, the self-assured way he’d asked for her number. It had been a complete chance encounter, too—Tim lived and worked on the opposite side of the city, and had been in the area doing work for a client.

And she had to admit, the surprise birthday party had been an incredibly sweet gesture. If only he hadn’t invited everyone she knew…

Trish was halfway across the party, trying to squeeze past her ex-boyfriend Jerry (who she had broken up with when he had suggested a threesome) and her ex-boyfriend Larry (who she’d dumped when she’d learned he was still on his ex-girlfriend’s lacrosse team) when a thought struck her.


The sound of cheering coming from her lounge room increased her heart-rate, and she practically shoved her ex-boyfriend David (dumped for eating toast in bed) over as she rushed to see what was causing such excitement.

Her heart dropped when she saw what it was. Her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend Tim was standing in the middle of the room, next to what looked like a…but no, it couldn’t be.

“Honey,” Tim said, grinning broadly, “Happy birthday.”

With that, the woman standing next to Tim pressed a button on the boom-box she’d brought, and it began omitting thick, sultry beats. Trish’s face was burning, her throat felt like it was closing up, and it was only with a great deal of effort that she managed to force a sentence out.

“Tim,” she raged, “What…the…hell…”

“Relax, babe,” he said, cutting her off with a grin. “You know you need to relax.”

“Why the FUCK is there a whore STRIPPER…—“

Before she could finish the sentence, the stripper butted in.

“Call me Rose. Now sit down and relax—your boyfriend paid big bucks for me, and I want to make sure you have a birthday you’ll never forget…”

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Trish did as the stripper instructed, and sat down. As she looked around the party, she noticed her ex-boyfriend Mitchell watching with a gleeful look on his face. Of course he’d be loving this, she thought—she’d dumped him when learning that he had been a regular at strip clubs before they had met.

The beat dropped, and Trish noticed that the stripper had started her routine.

She really is very talented, she was forced to admit. She was dressed in black thigh-high boots, a tight leather mini-skirt, and a red button-down top that barely went below her boobs.

Her dancing was…hypnotic. Without looking around, Trish could tell that every set of eyes at the party were on Rose. And even though she had never been even remotely interested in girls, Trish had to admit that her dancing was very…alluring.

As the stripper threw her head back and forth in time with the beat, her long black hair flew one way and then the next. Trish watched the motion, entranced, before moving her focus down to the girl’s face.

Was that a…nose-ring? In the past, Trish had always despised nose-rings (any form of piercings on a man was a deal-breaker for her, and she thought anything more than earrings on a woman was just trashy) but she had to admit that it somehow suited her.

It gave a focus to the girl’s friendly, rounded face, with her button nose and her heavily made-up eyes. She’d stopped whipping her hair back and forth, and was now slowly walking toward Trish, a smile on her face.

As Trish realized what was going to happen next, she knew she should be feeling dread. Stripping was a disgusting practice for women with no self-esteem to making men feel superior. So…why was she looking forward to it? She had no interest in seeing the other woman’s body—Trish barely liked looking at her own body in the mirror, and had dumped at least two of the men in the room when they had kept pushing for sex above the covers with the lights on.

No, it wasn’t that she wanted to see the stripper’s body. She just wanted to see how she did it—every move she made was so graceful, so…perfect. At this stage, Rose could have pulled out a knife and started cutting pieces of Trish’s flesh off and she would have watched to see how elegantly she could do it.

In the few seconds that the boom-box stopped blaring out one song and the next begun, Trish looked around the room, and a thought struck her. When everyone had yelled “surprise”, she’d noticed in horror that Tim had invited a number of her ex-boyfriends. But, now that she thought about it, he didn’t seem to have invited anyone else…

Trish had never had time for many friends, but there were a few women at her office who she was on good speaking terms with, not to mention her family who lived in the area. But the only people at the party seemed to be ex’s…she’d been so blinded by fury that she hadn’t even noticed before.

Before she could follow that train of thought too far, the next song started, and her attention was drawn back to the beauty in front of her. Trish smiled—she didn’t know exactly what she was going to see, but she knew she was going to enjoy it.

As Rose began unbuttoning her shirt in time with the film, Trish didn’t even notice Tim approaching her chair. She just watched in awe as Rose’s peep-hole bra came into view, and briefly wondered if tits that perfect could be real.

Contrary to what Trish had assumed, not every set of eyes were fixed on the stripper as she slowly disrobed. Instead, they were flicking between Rose’s increasingly-revealed flesh, and how Trish was reacting to it. When the girl unzipped her skirt, standing there in nothing but a set of underwear and a pair of thigh-high boots, smiles began to spread across the faces of the assorted when they realized that their up-tight ex wasn’t outraged, she wasn’t getting up and leaving…

She was just sitting there, drinking it in with her eyes.

As one of the stripper’s magnificent breasts came into view, Tim knelt down beside Trish, and started speaking directly into her ear. No one else at the party could hear him, but since they’d all had a part in writing the script, everyone had a pretty good idea of what was being said.

“Are you enjoying this, Trish?”


“Good, because she costs a lot of money. She’s my wife, you see—yes, I know, she doesn’t look old enough to be anyone’s wife, but you’ll have to trust me, she is. And you do trust me, don’t you?”


“Right now, you should be furious. You should be furious that I have a wife, you should be even more furious that she’s taking her clothes off in front of you, and you should be downright outraged at the fact that it’s all happening in front of your ex-boyfriends. But none of that matters, does it? All that matters is how pretty she looks, what a good dancer she is. Would you like to be a dancer like my wife, Trish?”


“Yes, I’m sure you would. Most women would. If you can dance as well as my wife, you can have anything you like. But, unfortunately, it’s a unique gift. Or fortunately, I suppose—it depends on how you look at it. Now, are you wondering why she’s here?”


“No, you’re not. You’re not wondering anything, Trish, unless I tell you to. You aren’t going to think anything, not unless I tell you to. So you just sit back, relax, and I’ll tell you what to think.”

As Tim’s wife continued dancing, Tim explained a few things to the stunned girl. He explained how up until now, she’d been afraid of pleasure. She’d been so uptight, it was driving everyone away from her—friends, colleagues, partners. Her focus on her career was off-putting and unhelpful, and so someone had called Tim, and paid for his services.

From now on, he explained, she wasn’t going to be uptight. She wasn’t going to be career-driven, or off-putting.

Instead, she was going to be pleasant. And pleasant, in this case, meant giving and receiving pleasure.

“Pleasure is nice, isn’t it?”


As Tim’s words sunk into her ears, Trish continued to watch Rose dance. She was down to just a thong now, and she was facing away from Trish, wiggling her thong-clad ass back and forth, over and over. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.

“It would be a better world if there was more pleasure in it, Trish, and from now on that’s what you’re going to dedicate your life to. You haven’t let me see much of it, but I know you’ve got a beautiful body, capable of giving so much pleasure. You’re going to unleash your potential, Trish—from now on, any time you see an opportunity to give pleasure with your body, you’re going to take it. And you’re quickly going to find giving pleasure is the most pleasurable thing you can do. Do you understand me?”


“You’re going to give pleasure, and that’s going to give you pleasure. To anyone and everyone you can, Trish—from now on, that’s your one and only purpose.”

The second Tim finished speaking, his wife lowered her panties, and Trish stared at the stripper’s exposed pussy in shock. For reasons she couldn’t explain, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and it was a few minutes before she realized the music had stopped and Rose had stopped dancing.

“Wow,” she said, standing with a smile and holding out her hand in congratulations. “You were amazing.”

“Thanks,” the stripper replied, shaking her hand.

There was a long pause, as the last of Trish’s old personality made a valiant attempt to save her from her next actions…but it was too late.

Trish lent forward, lost in Rose’s sparkling blue eyes.

“You’re so beautiful…” she whispered. “Can I…”

“Of course,” the stripper smiled, and Trish closed her eyes, leaned forward, and (for the first time in her life) kissed another woman. She was faintly aware of the sound of hollering and applause coming from the rest of the room, but for the most part she was focused on the soft touch of Rose’s lips against hers.

Without even meaning to, Trish reached out and started running her hands up and down the stripper’s body. The faint moans told her that despite her inexperience, she was doing something right, and this thought was enough to spur her on.

Without ever breaking contacts with the other girl’s lips, Trish moved her over to the chair, and gently sat her down. Her own pussy was burning, but she somehow knew that she’d get a release not from pleasuring herself, but from giving pleasure to someone else.

She hesitantly reached down and touched Rose’s soft folds. In her life, she’d watched less than ten seconds of lesbian porn, and she was frantically trying to recall those ten seconds to ensure that she did everything right.

Sensing her worry, the stripper laughed softly, and leaned forward, whispering instructions in Trish’s ear. With a grateful smile, Trish obeyed, leaning down and placing her mouth over the girl’s most private entrance.

By now, the room was going positively wild—each man there had been rejected by Trish in some fashion, and most had also been humiliated. Half the men had their camera-phones out, recording their once uptight ex as she enthusiastically performed cunnilingus for the first time.

It wasn’t long before Rose was panting in pleasure, and—to no one’s surprise—so was Trish. Giving pleasure was now the ultimate turn-on for the once uptight woman, and when the stripper reached orgasm, so did Trish.

“Your turn,” the dancer said, standing up and moving behind Trish. A small part of her mind knew that something was wrong, but that part was getting smaller by the second.

All these men… she thought to herself. None of them…looking at…

As the music returned, Trish’s unfinished thought melted away. She had been correct—although Rose was standing there, completely naked, her pert butt just begging to be spanked, all the male attention was now on Trish.

Rose knelt in front of the birthday girl, her tongue reaching out and gently lapping at the older woman’s folds. Trish had never believed in shaving down there—Mort, staring at her in shock from halfway across the room, had been dumped just for suggesting she trim.

Despite having just cum, Trish couldn’t believe how much pleasure Rose was able to provide. She wriggled in pleasure as the stripper’s talented mouth went to work, softly massaging her clit and occasionally slipping her small tongue between her lips.

But even as she got more and more turned on by the younger woman’s administrations, she didn’t feel any closer to cumin.

“Please…” she begged, and with a smile, Tim stepped in once more.

“It’s agony, isn’t it?” he asked, and Trish just bit her lip and nodded in response, her cheeks flushed with arousal. “I’m afraid that’s a feeling you’re going to have to get used to. Going forward, your orgasms are going to be few and far between. You came earlier, from giving my beautiful wife pleasure, but you can’t cum again until you make two others cum. And after that, three.

“If you had self-control, you could limit yourself to one orgasm a day, but even then the numbers would begin to build up pretty quickly. But as my darling goes down on you, your self-control is going to slip away. You’re going to be a cum-hungry little slut.

“You’ll always remember this party, Trish. So many men, keen to use your body how they like. You’ll always remember this as a high point—two men, then three, then four…you’ll never have this many orgasms in a single day again.”

Trisha was struggling to breathe—Rose was spectacularly talented at what she was doing, and Trisha’s pussy felt like it was going to burst with pleasure. But even as she felt as though she was getting closer and closer to orgasm, she was never able to reach it.

“These men are going to use you, all night long. You’re going to let them cum in you, on you…you’re going to get fucked all over your apartment. And then, you’re going to spend the rest of your life desperate to cum, willing to do whatever it takes to get men off.

“Do you understand?”

Trish nodded, acknowledging the nightmare that had just been described to her. At that moment, she didn’t even care—nothing mattered, except getting fucked. Tim’s voice went silent, and when she opened her eyes, she saw him standing next to the snack-table, making out with…with Rose.

Stunned, she glanced down to her spread legs, shocked to find nothing between them but air. And yet…she could still feel Rose’s talented tongue, teasing and stimulating her, bringing her closer to a peak she knew there was only one way to reach.

Despite the fact he was standing across the room, Tim’s voice still felt like it was talking directly into her ear.

“My wife really is a talented woman, isn’t she?”

He winked, and Trish lost sight of him as the throng of angry ex-boyfriends began to approach, hungry looks in their eyes.

“Please…” Trish said, writhing on the chair in arousal, not even sure what she was begging for.